


Darkness

by Layni1771



Series: Stray Kids AUs [12]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Friendship, Gen, Heavy Angst, Minor Character Death, Platonic Bordering Romantic, and that's a promise, jisung won't leave jeongin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 04:11:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14762352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Layni1771/pseuds/Layni1771
Summary: The sky is collapsing and no one he passes by seems to notice, or to mind.orJisung gets a call from Jeongin.





	Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly so many of these are hard to write summaries for because they're such small snapshots of much larger stories in my mind. Anyways, I'm highkey catching up to all my prewritten work so sorry if updates are slower! So many of my oneshots are getting longer and longer, so there's less works to post but the word-count rises steadily...  
> As always, this is not proofread. Maybe one day I'll do that.
> 
> Don't forget that the tags include child abuse, so be wary of triggers.

It is ten at night when Jisung gets the call.

He is laying on his balcony, stomach pressed to the flaking white paint of the wood as he plays with a stray cat that has somehow made its way up there. Jisung is swinging a string back and forth, and the cat's pupils wide as the eyes followed its "prey" intently. There is a silly, fond smile on his face as he watches the graceful creature, and the night sky is dark against his back. He is feeling at peace, and the vibrating in his pocket does not startle him. It does, however, drive away his small guest and a disappointed sigh leaves his lips as Jisung fishes his phone out of his hoodie pocket, adjusting the beanie on his head with his other hand. He answers the phone without looking at the name, confident he knows who is calling.

"What's up, Jeongin?" There is no definitive reply, only the loud sounds of someone's panted breaths crinkling over the phone. His face wrinkles up in discomfort and he pulls away the device, checking the name. It is indeed Jeongin, and he presses it back to his ear, concern splashing itself bright red over his chest. The younger's home life is not what one would consider safe, much less ideal, and he feels worry when the boy still has not said anything. Jisung sits up, his heart pounding, "Jeongin, are you there? Are you alright?"

The breathing continues, interrupted by what he can now tell is a light gasp every now and then, and he is about to speak again when the younger finally answers him.

"Hyung...Can you come see me?" Jeongin's voice is frighteningly weak, and Jisung is internally cursing to himself as he scrambles to his feet, brushing the paint chips off of his palms onto the skinny jeans he never changed out of that evening.

"Of course, Jeonginnie. Are you at home, or-"

"Not home," He is cut off with a vicious panic, and Jisung swallows with a heavy feeling as he slips on his shoes.

"Not home, got it, okay," Jisung soothes, even if the teen hasn't expressly said he is upset. His mention of home had clearly upset the boy and he will not make the same mistake again, "Where, then?"

"...The empty area with crates behind the shoe store," And Jisung does not want to know why, because that sentence makes his already burdened heart worse. It is not safe for Jeongin to be out in his neighborhood at that time of night ( _It's not safe for him to be in that house, either_ , his brain argues with him unhelpfully) so his already hurried movements take on a new urgency as he takes his steps three at a time, calling to his mother that he will be back later. Jisung does not wait for her reply, already starting to run in the general direction that Jeongin lives in. He does not know the exact way but he knows once he gets close enough he can figure it out, and it is good enough. Jisung has almost forgotten that he still has Jeongin on the line until the younger shakily calls his name.

"What is it?"

"I'm sorry, for calling you out so late," Jisung can hear the way his words are slightly impeded by his braces, and it brings the hint of a fond smile to his lips even in the situation at hand.

"Don't be," The older reassures, running a hand through his orange-dyed hair as he picks up the pace. He does not like the strange note in the boy's voice. It is crawling across his skin like insects, making him shiver and leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Jisung coughs in the cool wind, trying to formulate a clear thought. _What does Jeongin need to hear right now?_ He does not know, but the silence is deafening and he wants to say something, anything, "Hyung is on his way, okay? I'm always glad to see you, no matter the time. You're my best friend, you know that?"

Jeongin does not respond, only more labored breathing and gasps. It is making Jisung so, _so_ nervous.

There is something terribly wrong here. He does not know how he missed it before, but as his eyes reach the sky he can see that the night is not as calm as he thought as he played with the cat. There is something wrong with the stars, the way they are twinkling but not brightly, more foreboding than beautiful. The inky blackness that surrounds them is suffocating, a pit of tar that is slowly rolling down, dripping to reach the darkened streets. It makes his stomach roll with untamed nausea, and Jisung's vision blurs slightly as he takes the next turn. He knows he is getting closer to where his friend should be waiting, but everything feels a lifetime away. The sky is collapsing and no one he passes by seems to notice, or to mind.

There is no doubt in his mind when he lays eyes on the shaking form of the teenager that Jeongin is the only one who understands the way the world is not okay.

"Jeonginnie?" Jisung asks carefully, ending the call on his phone. He is curled up by some of the crates, his back exposed. The younger is only wearing socks, no shoes, and the socks are covered in dirt and gravel- And blood. He cannot see Jeongin's face, but at his voice the boy flinches. He takes a few cautious steps forward, "Jeongin, it's me, Jisung. Are you alright?"

"H-hyung," Jeongin gasps out, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" He laughs, but even he can hear the slight hysteria in it already. Jisung does not want Jeongin to turn around, though he does not understand why he feels this way.

"I'm sorry," He repeats, and Jisung lays a hand on his trembling shoulder. Slowly, Jeongin shifts, and Jisung is treated to the full view of his bruised face and the blood that covers his hands and clothes. Some of it is his, yes, but he can tell instantly that most of it is not and his heart drops as he kneels down to face the terrified child, "I-I didn't mean to. He w-was killing her and I...I was _scared_."

" _Oh_ , Jeonginnie," He pulls him into his arms, not caring of the way the blood is surely transferring to his own clothing. He wraps his arms firmly around the boy who seems about as steady as a newborn kitten. His cries are similar, high-pitched and whining into Jisung's shoulder. They pierce his ears and he winces, rocking Jeongin back and forth and the teenager presses his thin fingertips into his shoulders with a bruising force. Jisung wants to vomit at the iron scent that is burning, ever-so-acrid at his nose, but he holds his bile back, running his fingers through the younger's tangled and matted hair. He can see the drying blood that is clinging to his fingertips each time he does this but Jisung refuses to mind. It is Jeongin. He will do anything for Jeongin, and he presses a cool kiss to his best friend's sweaty forehead.

"Hyung, am I going to go to _jail_ , I-I wanted to graduate and _leave here with you_ , hyung-"

"Shh, shh, Jeongin, it's okay. I've got you. Just, tell me what happened? Can you tell me what you did? I can't understand if you don't tell me exactly what you did," He vaguely realizes that he is holding a murderer in his arms but that does not bother him because that man deserved to die ages ago and Jeongin _clearly_ felt like he had no choice and Jisung, Jisung just wants to make this go away. He wants the power to hold him and kiss it better so nothing can harm the precious boy ever again. He knows that despite his own reassurances he is shaking too, and his mind is racing so much. He does not know how he is coming across so reasonably but he thanks whatever higher power there may be that he is.

"The clock- I didn't think he would turn, hyungie, I really didn't," Is the panicked reply he receives and it brings to mind the image of a table clock he has seen many times before in the Yang living room. It is rounded except for the base, where there are sharp corners and he knows from experience that it is quite heavy. Jeongin's tone takes on an even more miserable quality, "I w-was too late anyway. I couldn't save her. I did it for no-nothing."

"That's not true," He denies, pushing Jeongin a little away from him so he can look into his eyes. The tender flesh is swelled and discolored and his lip is caught in his braces and he wants to cry when he sees the horrified gleam in the younger's gaze, "You did it for yourself. Okay? Listen to me. Anyone who says otherwise is _wrong_. None of this is your fault, Jeonginnie. You deserved better."

"I killed him," His admission makes him break down in tears again, and Jisung watches helplessly as gem-like drops spatter against the pavement.

"...Let's go to the police station together, Jeongin. Let's make it end, okay? Hyung will stay right by your side, I promise," Jisung does not want to do this. He wants to take Jeongin by the hand and run far away, as far as their feet can take them and even further. Until their feet are broken and bloodied, until their legs can no longer hold their terrible weight and their lungs have forgotten how to take in air. But he cannot and he does not, and he knows what has to happen no matter how terrifying it might be.

"I don't wanna!" Jeongin sobs into his dirty shirt sleeves.

"I know, I know. But let's do it together. Always together, Jeonginnie," He promises with a heartbroken voice.

Jisung does not know how this story ends but he is not eager to find out.

Part of him wishes he never picked up that phone.

The rest of him knows he would do it again.

Always.


End file.
